Secrets of Slaves
by Buffy Sparrow
Summary: Riddick/OC. A planet's princess is Cleansed and, now nothing more than a slave, must endure the stalking animal that rules her... and her heart. ON HIATUS BUT NOT ABANDONED
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: I own nothing from Pitch Black, Dark Fury or Chronicles of Riddick. The only claim I have is over Luna, Odien Three, and any other original characters or locations. No copyright is intended._

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**Prologue:**

My civilization on the world of Odien Three, where my father ruled, was one of the first to be overcome by the Necromonger fleet, forced to follow a faith not my own and be Changed. The process had been painful, but it was that pain that allowed me to do what none of my world had accomplished. After the conversion I quickly realized that my will was my own, that my thoughts revolted against this new life and, with the exception of my new scars, I was unchanged. The Cleansing had not affected me like it had my companions. I was still free.

But to remain such came at a price. My survival depended on learning the behavior of the Cleansed, learning their thought patterns, beliefs and actions. I learned to perfectly imitate even the strongest of believers with a false conviction even the Lord Marshal himself could not duplicate. The initial status given to me, a mere slave, allowed me to stay unnoticed among those I served and, even when I became a servant to the bastard that ruled us, my secret stayed undiscovered.

From the background, I witnessed the fateful day when our world changed. I watched as this stranger my 'master' feared sent him to the Underverse, the after-life our people coveted so, and felt a joy I had not experienced in years. This new Lord Marshal became my beacon of hope but I still feared what his rule could bring. He was the monster under the bed of men and mercs alike, with more kills to his name than any before him and known for his anmialistic side. His eyes shined a silver emptiness as he'd scanned the crowd surrounding him and his name was whispered through the crowed like a plague. Riddick.

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A/N: A short chapter to get us started. Let me know what you think, so I know to quickly finish Chapter 1.


	2. Princess

Chapter 1

My day starts earlier than even the most important of people. Despite the numerous changes to our society – the freedom of thought, making the Cleansing illegal, allowing only the willing to join our society and releasing, or destroying, those unwilling to follow the new laws – my job has not changed. I am still servant to the Lord Marshal, and Lord Riddick is an early riser. After bathing and dawning the skin-baring clothes that display my status as head servant, I enter the private quarters of my master with his breakfast in hand. The room is pitch black, something I've gotten used to over the past year in Lord Riddick's services, and I quickly call out 'ten percent lighting' to the computer system. I am now able to see the room around me but the sight warrants a frown. My gaze travels from the destroyed living area to the chaotic bedroom where my master rests beside one of his other servants.

Setting the tray on the coffee table, I begin gathering a few of the clothing strewn throughout the quarters before moving beside the bed. I recognize the woman now and my lips curl back in disgust. Katrina is one of my most hated and insubordinate _zephlas_, but the master seems to like her only for her body. It's enough to keep her under my command, although not an inch of me approves. With a disapproving glare on my face, I drag the bitch out of the bed by her arm and allow her to fall swiftly onto the floor before dropping her clothes on her person. Her shouts of anger are silenced when she gazes into my eyes, cowering under my furious stare.

"You have duties to attend to, Katrina," I spit, watching her scramble to dress herself before fleeing out the door.

My anger stays with me even as I continue to clean up the master's quarters, the mess baring the weight of my glare and fury. Every inch of the place is searched for trash to be recycled and clothes to be washed and I thought I'd found everything until I noticed a pair of underwear laying carelessly across the computer consul. 'Damn her whoring ways,' I scream in my head, grabbing the offensive garment but making to move to finish my duties once they are tossed in the proper receptical. Instead, my mind begins to wander as I stare into the bin and I try to count the number of times I've gone through this routine. At least fifty, maybe more mornings have been spent like this; cleaning up after Lord Riddick's whores.

It's no secret that my master will take almost any who are willing into his bed, and even a few who are not. He's never been shy about his carnal needs, be them arousal, hunger or anger. Especially the latter. His killing instinct is what makes him the ruthless leader he needs to be without acting like a tyrant. I'd admire him for it of I wasn't still hiding behind my facade. Despite this, I still admire him. The way he rules, yes, but also his silent nature, his closed personality and his body. Most people notice first his height and muscle, his physical presence and are intimidated by it. I saw his eyes, the silver glint that helps to hide his emotions and aid his ability as a warrior. They captivate me whenever I dare to glance up from the floor, which is vary rarely anymore.

"You stare like that any longer, Luna, and they're gonna catch fire," a deep, whiskey laced voice rumbles through my very core, interrupting my thoughts.

I had not heard him wake and the sound of his voice startles me enough to forget my cardinal rule, never look him in the eye. My turquoise eyes meet his gaze for an instant, but thats all it takes for me to forget myself. His face shows amusement, even curiosity, as he watches me intently and with no signs of removing himself from the bed. Something inside my gut tightens, arousal burning through me like a wildfire and a simple arch of a brow tells me he can smell the change. I use my naturally black, wavy hair to hide the blush rising in my cheeks and break the hold his eyes seem to have on me. Thank God I grew my hair long, allowing it to reach my waist, after the death of the last Lord Marshal.

"Of course, my Lord. Forgive me," I mutter.

He hates it when I call him that, but old habits are hard to break. I can hear his subtle growl from across the room and I can't help but smile at his annoyance. Something about bugging him without breaking status pleases me. I happen to be one of the few who is allowed to call him by name outside of his bed and while it's a great honor that I don't take lightly, it's still fun to anger him by acknowledging his title. Grabbing the breakfast tray, I enter the bedroom once more but keep my gaze averted from the beauty of his exposed chest.

"May I be blunt with you, Riddick?" I ask quietly as he takes the tray from my hands.

He nods, placing a strawberry in to his mouth. Silence fills the room as I try to compose my thoughts, figuring the best way to express my concern without angering him or overstepping my bounds. His patience with me is not unlimited, however, and he grabs my arm to pull me onto the bed. Something inside me demands that I fight back, false presences be damned, so I break his grasp with a sharp turn of my body. This seems to startle him, the behavior being so unlike my usually submissive self but his face stays emotionless.

"Your preference for Katrina is becoming excessive and is preventing her from doing her duties. I suggest finding a new _zelpha_ to warm your bed for a while," I barely whisper, but the fierce disapproval still makes its way to the surface.

Riddick seems to contemplate this for a moment as he picks through the fruit bowl before replying, "And you would suggest...?"

"Someone not under my command. There are plenty of women who would brave the Underverse for your company, and yet you choose to make my life difficult by fornicating with mine," my voice is nearly on the edge of hysterics, but the only effect I seem to have on my master in to amuse him. Wonderful. "Please, for the sake of my sanity, find someone else to fuck for a change."

The reaction is instantaneous. My mind catches up with my mouth, the realization of my words causing me to drop to my knees and lean my forehead against the ground. 'Shit, shit shit,' my inner voice screams.'What's gotten into you? Speaking your mind like you're still on Odien Three? Stupid girl!' Fear fills me to a point where I want to cry, but the emotion battles against the strong, defiant will I've kept silenced all these years. I do not fear Riddick. I could never fear the man who has treated me so well, becoming close to the only friend I've had since the Cleansing. My inevitable punishment is a different matter all together. Traitors and conspirators die slowly at the blades of my master, and my harsh words could bring me no better a fate.

"Get up," he commands, moving to the other side of the bed.

As I slowly get to my feet, I listen as he pulls on a pair of pants – probably one of his dozen pairs of black cargo pants – but mostly I'm waiting for the sound of knives unsheathing or shivs being removed from their hiding places. I could sense him moving closer to me and my breath catches as I wait for the blow that would end my life. Instead, callused fingers grip my chin and force me to stare into those silver eyes. Despite not being able to read his emotions through those gleaming orbs, he appears to be looking into my very soul and trying to see past my own blank face.

"Don't fear me, Luna," he tells me. "You're stronger than that."

"Forgive me, my Lord, for my previous outburst and also for this one," I reply in an even tone. "You know nothing about me, or what strength I may or may not possess."

He smirks, dropping my chin before disappearing into the bathroom. I finally feel comfortable enough to move once I hear the sound of running water coming from the open doorway and I try my best to finish my duties as quickly as possible. For some reason, I don't want to be here when he gets back. I hate how easily he can affect me, leaving me shaken with a simple word or touch. It scares me more than anything I've ever experienced, including the Cleansing. My people had been warriors, with every man, woman and child knowing how to defend themselves. Being the king's daughter, I learned every form of combat I could and I was greatly respected for my skill. The men who sought to use me quickly learned to fear me, but I have no defense against the emotions Riddick invokes. There's nothing I can do except stick to my facade, keep my mouth shut and play the good servant. Just as I'm about to walk out the door, I hear a voice call after me.

"I'll need you to bring refreshments to the war room."

"Of course, my Lord," I respond with a slight bow.

"Step up, princess," he taunts.

"I don't understand."

"You will."

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A/N: Reviews are love.


	3. Traditions

Chapter 2

I've sat in on many of the private meetings between Lord Riddick, Vaako and the other men in the chain of command, always hiding in the shadows and trying to remain unnoticed. Only Riddick's most trusted of servants are allowed to sit in on these meetings, which means something important is being discussed since I'm the only one in here. It baffles me why he would put that much faith in me. For the first six months of his reign I refused to speak to him and it was only after a single slip of the tongue that he demanded my silence ended. I had once called Dame Vaako a 'conniving bitch' under my breath but apparently I didn't say it quiet enough. It was then that he began to feel comfortable around me, and I around him. Now I feel particularly honored because I've never been alone in my duties during a council meeting.

The room is fairly small compared to the more public areas. A large computer screen provides a large portion of the room's light, illuminating the cylindrical table that seats the seven men. Riddick is seated at point, which allows him to view almost every corner of the room and keep an eye on his advisers. His back faces the small cart that holds a variety of beverages, fruits and meats. Even with his apparently endless amount of confidence in me, I still have to be careful to at least bring his attention to my presence before trying to move behind chair. I learned that lesson very quickly, but I suppose anyone would when they have a shiv at their throat.

"Gentlemen," Vaako begins, standing from his seat. "We all know why we've gathered here today. Changes have been made since Lord Riddick has ruled. The Cleansing has been outlawed but we have decided no other means of recruitment. Traditions have been ignored but we did not brief out new Lord Marshall on what is expected of him. A year has past and today we need to settle these matters once and for all."

The room immediately erupts into chaos as each advisor voices their concerns and opinions. While serving the drinks, I watch the annoyance slowly spreads through Riddick's body, noticeable only by the tensing of his jaw, and try my best to not listen to the argument. It's not my place to pay attention to the workings of the higher class anymore, although Vaako's opening statements peaked my interest. Once the advisors all have glasses and something to eat in front of them, I take my place on the floor at Riddick's side and patiently watch for the moment when I must refill a glass. Sitting on the cold floor beside my master is just another reminder of how little I matter in this society, a concept that is still difficult to cope with after all these years. Four years of servitude would easily break a weaker person and it makes me thankful that I was already a strong willed eighteen year old when I was Cleansed. Otherwise, I never would have made it this long.

"No," Riddick's voice booms through the room, despite his voice not even being raised.

"No to what, my Lord?" asks Damien, one of the secondary fleet commanders.

"Everything."

Everyone begins screaming their arguments, each trying to out yell the other but Riddick will hear none of it. I watch him hide his eyes behind his hand, rubbing them in frustration while I slowly begin to listen to what is being said. Every side is arguing the need to replenish the ranks and a few are campaigning for following certain traditions closer, specifically the need for Riddick to take a wife. That last part really caught my interest and I couldn't stop myself from snorting in amusement.

"And they call themselves Necromongers," I whisper.

"Have a point to make, princess?" Riddick asks in response to my muttering, quieting the room.

"Who cares?" replies one of the men, although I can't figure out which one.

A harsh look from Riddick immediately silences any further protests and my stomach begins to knot up. The bad feeling grows worse when he grabs my arm, hauling me to my feet and motioning me to continue. I blush and stare down at the hem of my dress, fidgeting.

"My Lord, I'd really rather not."

"Pussy," he taunts.

I can feel the angry flush rising in my face and I have to clench my jaw tightly to keep myself from screaming at him. Something inside my head commands me to rebel against his torment, to live up to the title I'd earned back on Odien Three and fight back. It's the same part of me that feels betrayed by his actions. How can he put me in this kind of situation, knowing full well I could be punished for my insubordination? I dare to gaze upon his face and his amused smirk marks the end of my self-control.

"Your men call themselves Necromongers but they fail to see past the mockery the previous Lord Marshall made of their beliefs," I boldly state, keeping my eyes on Riddick. "Keep what you kill, yes, but do we have to kill to keep? Why must we force these weaker planets under our reign simply to gain men to take over the next hunk of rock? Grant them protection from those who would seek to control them, earn our right to lead them and they will bow to you without hesitation."

"And what of the traditions, wench?" demands Vaako. "The Lord Marshall needs a Lady to rule by his side. Who would take Lady Isabella's place?"

The easiest way to answer would to restate the one belief the Necros hold above all the rest, to allow the one who murdered the previous Lady to rule at Riddick's side. Oh, yes, my old master once had a wife, killed long before the invasion of Helion Prime. But there in lies the problem. It was my knife that spilled her blood and ended her life. Keep what you kill, right? I condemned myself to remain a servant when I refused to take her place and the Lord Marshall made sure I regretted that decision every day. My answer would be no different now. How could one possibly help maintain a faith they didn't believe in themselves?

"Answer me," Vaako screams, tearing my gaze away from those silver eyes in order to glare at Riddick's second. "Do you intend to take the throne?"

"No. Let the women who want him fight for him. A match to first blood until only the two strongest remain and then only death will decide who shall rule. Keep what you kill."

"That is the Necromonger way," the men repeat, collapsing into their chairs as if a great burden has been lifted from their shoulders.

How strange that the lowest of creatures has just decided the fate for their faith. Vaako still watches me, looking perplexed by my declaration, while Riddick merely looks extremely pissed. I don't think he likes the idea of having a bride chosen for him and I honestly don't blame him.

"Do you honestly intend to give up your rightful place?" asks Damien quietly. "Her blood is on your hands."

This statement earns me a raised eye brow from Riddick, as if my role in Lady Isabella's demise is a new piece of information. I merely shake my head before turning to bow toward the man I respect but would never call husband.

"May I be relieved of my duties, my Lord?"

"No, but you can wait for me in my chambers," he replies, his tone to even for comfort.

Making my way out of the room, I kick myself for being so stupid and allowing my emotions to get the better of me. Something tells me I've just opened Pandora's Box... and I'm really not going to like what comes out.

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A/N: I would like to thank Aztechphenom, dragonmamma and YourWonderland for being the first to comment on my story. It's because of you guys that this new chapter was written so quickly.

Also, I would like to point out that I've made a slight change to chapter 1. A little more of Luna's history was added into the last full paragraph of the page.

Remember, reviews are love!


	4. Acting

Chapter 3

There is nothing like nerves to help get things done. I have no idea what's going to happen once Riddick returns but I know I can't just sit around and wonder. So, instead, I do my best to make an already sparkling clean room sparkle a little bit brighter. What ever I can get my hands on is polished, scrubbed or refolded. The fear almost convinces me to even sharpen and polish his skivs but I resign myself to stripping the bed of it's sheets instead. _I need to do laundry anyways_, my mind convinces me, even though I know these were washed just yesterday. Only his command for the lights to dim down to fifty percent alerts me to his presences just outside the bedroom doorway and than there is only his deep chuckling.

"I'm pretty sure the place was already clean, princess," he says when I enter the living area, sheets in hand.

"Of course, my Lord," I respond, dumping my burden in the chute. "I merely..."

"Needed to keep yourself busy?" he interrupts. "Thought I told you never to fear me."

My eyes drop to he floor. Great, not only have I spoken outside my station and pissed him off, but I've hurt whatever feelings he may have. If he doesn't kill me, or at least beat me for my disobedience, he's a fool. Or maybe to closed off to bother finding another slave to trust. I'll go with the second once, since I know this man is everything but a fool.

"The faith does not tolerate disobedience, my Lord."

"But I'm not a Monger. You know that. And neither are you."

This catches me off guard and I can't keep the guilt from my face, although I wipe it away quickly once I realize it's there. My mind is working a hundred miles an hour trying to find a way to deny his words, or even explain myself, but no sound comes out of my mouth as it opens and closes.

"So did you really kill his wife?" he asks when I still don't speak.

"I did."

"Why? And don't be gentle about it."

I smirk slightly as I reply, "The bitch didn't check me for weapons before she got in my face. I had a temper back then and didn't take being insulted very well."

"Back then, huh? Damn. And here I was thinking you were the quiet type."

"I'm a very good actress, my Lord."

"So show me what you've got," he commands, beginning to circle the room.

"I don't understand."

"Stop acting, princess. I want to see what they teach you warrior types on Odien Three."

"Perhaps at another time. Four years is an awfully long time without practice."

Although the truth is, any free time I can find is used to keep my body in shape and practice the techniques of my people. I just don't want to fight him. What if I accidentally hurt him, as unlikely as that is? What if he kicks my ass? I take defeat about as well as I take insults, especially in a battle of any kind. But the way he's continued to circle me says he was going to test me anyways, no matter how many years I claimed to be out of shape. When he lunges for me, my body instinctively drops to the floor and forces him to fly over me. He rolls along the carpet before jumping to his feet again and I'm much more prepared for his next attack. Punches are thrown and blocked on both sides but my movements are seriously hindered by the skirt plastered to my hips and legs. A quick side roll gives me the space I need to remedy the problem and the sound of cloth being ripped echoes through the silent room. His eyebrow raises when I rip the other side and take a better defensive stance.

"What?" I ask when he still doesn't attack. "To much leg?"

He chuckles before throwing a spin kick my way, which I block without seeing the plan behind his movement. By using one arm to knock his leg aside left my other one open and he takes advantage by grabbing it, spinning my into his back. Our breathing is labored, but he hasn't even broken a sweat. His breath is warm against my neck, making me shiver, and I can almost sense him smiling at my reaction.

"Tell me why you wouldn't take her place," he demands quietly.

Breaking out of his grasp and elbowing him in the stomach, I move away before replying, "Because I would've died before letting that bastard touch me."

I kick him upside the head, my bare foot doing very little damage, before spinning to deflect the fist aimed at my face. The pain shooting through my mouth tells me I moved just a little to slow and I back away to wipe the blood from my lip.

"Besides," I add with a smile. "making him angry was just SO much fun."

A few minutes later and our squabble ends with me being pinned to the floor, his body weight settling between my legs while he holds my arms above my head. I'm practically gasping for air as I stare up into those eyes of his and I'm very aware of what the fighting has done for Riddick, the evidence of it hard against my core.

"Why won't you fight for me?" he asks quietly.

"What?"

"Why won't you fight for me?"

Confusion fills me to a point where I can't even for words. My mind has become completely blank as I take in the serious look on his face, telling me he actually wants to know the answer to his question. What am I supposed to tell him? I'd love to fight for him, but I refuse to play leader to a faith I don't believe in? That I'd rather remain a slave all my life than be controlled by a man that didn't love me? Or maybe that I would take my rightful place at his side now, if I didn't think he deserved someone better, someone that could help him rule? My fighting instinct kicks back in, wanting to be away from the source of my confusion, and instantly I'm squirming under his hold. He moves away from me with reluctance, allowing me room to breath and clear my muddled head.

"I don't want to," I weakly whisper, wrapping my arms around my stomach.

I can hear him growl as he turns his back on me, making me wonder if I'm offended him somehow. I don't understand how I could have but it's the only thing I can think of that would make him react this way.

"My Lord?" I ask, receiving no answer. "Riddick?"

"You need to leave," he responds angrily.

My feet are actually moving toward the door when my mind catches up with me and I revert back to the person I was before the Cleansing. The strong woman who refused to be told what to do, who never backed down and stood up for what she believed in. The warrior.

"What do you want from me, Riddick?" I scream, very quickly getting his attention. "I stepped up and shared my opinion. I practically scolded a bunch of men that just a year ago would execute me just for looking them in the eye. Do you want me to roll around on the floor with a bunch of higher ranked women, pretending I'm still on Odien Three and actually a princess, so that you don't have to marry some tight assed bitch that will actually know how to rule but you're to cold hearted to trust? Or maybe you don't want someone to help you with these people at all, but some dog that sits next to you and only gets attention when you want to give it? Whatever it is you're after, you won't get it from me. From this moment on I will continue to be nothing more than some fucking slave that has no importance in the world because that is who I am now! So, forgive me, my Lord, but I will not humiliate myself by fighting."

By the end of my rant, I'm out of breath and furious that he has still shown me no response except the slight turn of his head. How can he stand there being so calm? That's one side of him I've never understood. It's like there's nothing that could possibly faze him and it's beyond frustrating. For some reason I want him to scream back or at least look angry. At least answer my question. What is it exactly that he wants me to do? He practically baits me into acting outside my rank and then won't talk to me when I won't do what he asks? With a shake of my head I decide that it simply doesn't matter anymore. Maybe tomorrow I'll try to find a way into someone else's service, or just stick to working in the galley. A slave I may be, but I don't have to put up with this shit.

"Way to step up, princess," he tells me just as I'm about to walk out the door.

"It won't happen again, my Lord," I reply, meaning every word.

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A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed reading this scene as much as I enjoyed writing it. The next one should have the actual fight in it, which I promise will be enjoyable. Let me know what you guys thought.


	5. Jealousy

Chapter 4

The women willing to fight had been given a week to prepare. One very long week spent avoiding my master at all costs and being forced to deal with Katrina's constant talk of how often and in what ways he'd taken her. That was probably the hardest part, especially with the knowledge that this man-eating bitch is planning to fight this morning. She, like most of the other women gathered in the throne room, was dressed in a tight shirt and even tighter pants that allowed everyone to see exactly what weapons she's hiding. Even the women of the highest ranking seem to be carrying a knife or two, although I highly doubt they have any skill with them. Mostly, I choose to wander the outskirts of the crowd in order to see the match, and Riddick, without being to close to the action.

Vaako manages to make a very rousing speech that lays down the rules for the fight but doesn't even get the chance to finish because Katrina's already bloodied half of her opponents. I'm surprised to see that even Dame Vaako has joined the group of women and is doing exceptionally well until another, lower female gives her a gash down the side of her face that may leave her blinded in one eye. Red liquid pretty much covers the floor beneath the fighters, making the circular ring slippery and several of the opponents fall down at just the right moment. Riddick seems amused by the battle, especially the falling down part of it. Watching the dignified women fall on their asses simply brings a smirk to his face, for one reason or another. Even I can't help but giggle when Katrina falls flat on her face, saving herself from a nasty case of a slit throat and managing to slice the Achilles tendon of her competitor.

When Katrina and two others are all that is left of the dozens of girls, I find myself drawn through the crowd until I'm standing on the very edge of the circle. My heart raced in fear at the thought of Katrina being named the winner and I pray to whatever God may be listening that one of the other two cuts her down. Instead, she is left fighting one of the weakest opponent, who had made it this far on nothing but luck and their fight to the death begins. Whoever the weakling is, she's smart enough to wait for Katrina to strike before trying to make her move but that tactic quickly fails her. I can't even remember seeing the body fall to the ground, or letting out a long cry of 'no'. All I know is I'm staring over Katrina's shoulder at a loudly laughing Riddick with a knife in my hand and blood soaking into my dress.

Looking down I realize what exactly it is that I just did. Apparently something inside me snapped when Katrina had won and I stabbed her. With a cry of disgust, I throw her body away from me and drop the knife before staring at the blood on my hands. A cheer goes up around me as Vaako introduces me as the Lord Marshall's Lady but it all falls on deaf ears. What have I done? My eyes travel down to the stain growing on Katrina's back and realize where I'd managed to get her. The sweet spot.

"Just to the left of the spine, fourth lumbar down," Riddick whispers in my ear, scaring me out of my daze.

"I-I didn't mean..." I stutter, daring to look up at him. "I don't know what came over me. I just couldn't let her win."

"Something tells me you're the jealous type. Sexy."

"I'm not... Riddick, I can't possibly..."

"Get over it, princess. You're stuck with me now."

Why does that sound less like a good thing and more like a death sentence? Fuck.

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A/N: Wow, two chapters in one night. Am I good, or am I good? Haha. Sorry that this one's so short. I promise a long one next time.

Feed my muse and review!


	6. Honeymoon Pt 1

Chapter 5

Needless to say, the events that occurred over the next several hours left me flabbergasted as well as exhausted. Suddenly, all the servants that had once been under my instruction are trying to bathe the blood from my body, fix my hair and put on my clothes. The Lords to whom I had always been just a whore for their use now bow when I walk into the room and I actually get to sit at the feasting table instead of standing in the corner. My skin tight gown is made of only the finest materials, it's blood red color shimmering in the light as I'm escorted to my seat next to Riddick's and my instinctive bow causes laughter to circle throughout the room. Old habits die hard and a blush rises to my cheeks, which I quickly hide with my hair. All the other ladies at the table are wearing their hair up, a sign of their higher ranks, but thankfully I'd allowed mine to flow freely down my back. Riddick ignores my embarrassment, helping me into the chair placed on his right and the feast begins.

Idol chatter fills the room between the congratulatory toasts but I sit silent throughout, pushing the food around on my plate like a child forced to eat something disgusting. While the food was everything but gross, my appetite had disappeared on me and my mind is to distracted to even comprehend the way Riddick has begun to stare at me. When his entire body leans toward me, his lips resting millimeters from my ear, I finally notice my surroundings and his closeness. Instinctively, I turn my head so that I may gaze upon his face and I can feel his mouth against my cheek with the movement. Before our lips can touch I manage to push myself away, knocking over my chair in the process and all eyes are suddenly staring in confusion. I don't even take the time to force out an explanation but simply flee the room to find solace back in my quarters. No, not mine. It used to be mine but that was before I lost my mind, becoming the Lady to Riddick's Lord. Ugh, I'm to tired to deal with this tonight. But just as I shed my clothes and crawl into bed, my door is thrown open and an upset looking Riddick comes storming in.

"Can I help you?" I demand, clutching the blankets to my naked form.

"You don't sleep here any more," he tells me simply, with only a quiver of anger in his voice.

"And where do you suggest I stay, my Lord? There is no chamber designated for your Lady."

"So you stay with me."

My eyes widen in disbelief. Is he crazy?

"I'm not staying with you!"

"Wanna bet?"

The amused smirk on his face warns me he's about to do something, but I'm completely unprepared for how quickly he grabs me, tossing me over his shoulder. I can feel the cool air hit my bare ass and I struggle to wrap the blanket around me as he begins making his way back to the main level. At first, I actually consider going quietly but after thirty seconds of thinking about it I decide that propriety be damned. My screams are loud enough to carry throughout most of the ship, the obscenities spilling from my mouth causing everyone that witnesses my display to gawk or snicker at my disrespectful behavior and even Lord Vaako can't stop himself from raising a brow in my direction. Even in my undignified position, I still manage to glare most of them into silence but when Riddick slaps my ass the giggles start up again. Damn him.

"Keep it down, princess. You're scaring the minions," he tells me, the laughter in his tone only adding to my humiliation.

"I hate you so much, you insensitive basta – oomph."

My breath is knocked out of me when he tosses me onto his bed, the force of the jolt actually bouncing me onto the floor and I'm forced to sit there, glaring angrily up at the smiling man who is now the bane of my existence, until the feeling returns in my legs. Everything that is still an Odien warrior demands that I wipe that smirk off his face, my entire body almost shaking with the effort it's taking to keep myself seated and simply watch him saunter about the room. It takes time for my fury to dissipate enough for me to realize that he's actually getting ready for bed, a blush rising to my cheeks at the thought of his naked body and my flight instinct quickly brings me to my feet.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asks, making me realize I had slowly been making my way to the door.

"I'm sleeping on the couch," I reply with false confidence.

"You can try."

Something tells me I'm going to learn to hate that smirk.

* * *

_A/N: It's short and I'm sorry. I just wanted to get an update out for you guys as quickly as I could manage. Forgive me for taking so long._


	7. Honeymoon Pt 2

Chapter 6 – Honeymoon Pt. 2

Our battle of wills is going to last all night if someone doesn't back down and something tells me it's wishful thinking to hope that maybe he'll just give in. How long has it been since he dragged me in here? Ten, twenty minutes? An hour? Longer? All I'm sure of at this point is that my eyes are starting to burn from lack of sleep and my knees feel about to give out on me. Even with the wall to lean against, standing here with my arms crossed in defiance has taken it's toll on my already exhausted body and the arrogant bastard knows it. Laying comfortably in his bed, smirking as if he's already won the silent argument. Ugh, I could just.... just....

"Get in the bed, Lune," he commands and even his gruffness can't mask the triumph in his voice.

"You know, with you laying under all those blankets and the amount of time it would take you to jump out of the bed it's quite possible that I could beat you to the door," I point out. "So the couch is really more of a compromise. Halfway between where you want me to be and where I'd like to be."

"And what would you do once you got into the hall? My stride is longer than yours."

"True. Then again, I'm the only one of us with something to hide the nakedness... and I'm pretty sure at least one woman would throw herself at you. Might be enough to slow you down."

His laughter sends shivers down my spine and goosebumps break out along my flesh. Damn, I hate how easily my body seems to react to him. I hate how I've somehow managed to find myself in stuck between my rock solid convictions and his rock hard body.

"You really won't let me sleep on the couch, will you?" I ask quietly, already knowing the answer.

"Not a chance, princess."

So now I have to make a choice. Do I let my disposition against the Necromonger religion and it's previous Lord Marshall keep me from sleeping in a nice comfy bed next to a man I'm obviously attracted to? Or do I compromise my morals by crawling into said comfy bed, giving Lord Riddick one more thing to be smug about? Fuck it. Who needs morals when you're dog tired anyways?

"You're an ass," I tell him as I slide beneath the covers.

I stay awake just long enough to hear him chuckle at my comment, and then there's nothing but the blissful calm of slumber.

My body tells me it's not quite morning, and yet I find myself unhappily awake. The quiet muttering beside me draws my attention. Riddick's dreaming, it seems, and I rest my head in my hand, my elbow supporting my weight, in order to concentrate on his words. I pick up on only one word, a name, that he whispers over and over. Kyra. For some reason, my heart aches with the knowledge that another woman weighs on his mind and I can't help but torture myself by assuming what she means to him. Was she a lover? A wife? Someone he loves even now that he's bonded to me? When I can take his ramblings no longer, I gently touch his chest and whisper his name to wake him.

Bad idea. My instincts kick in before my mind even has the opportunity to realize what's happening. With a grip firm on his wrist, I just barely keep him from shivving me and my body twists in order to use his movement to roll his body on top of mine. Pain burns down my forearm as my legs send him flying off the bed and I discover that the tip of his shiv managed to cut me even while I kicked him away from me. He'd reacted violently to being disturbed and if I'd been even a moment slower, I would've paid for my mistake with my life.

"Fuck," I yell, bringing my hand to the wound to help stop the bleeding and rushing into the bathroom.

The thin slice across my skin is long and shallow, making me once again feel lucky that I'd moved as fast as I had. A simple wrap sufficed, stopping the bleeding easily, and the whiteness of the bandage stands out against my skin. Which is probably why it's the first thing he noticed when I stepped back out. Riddick stood from his place on the bed, walking forward to grasp my arm and inspect my patch up job.

"Don't do that again," is all he says before moving to add a shirt to the pants he'd already thrown on.

"Sure. Whatever you say," I reply, using a sheet to hide my own nakedness.

"I could've killed you and that's the only reaction I get?" he mocks.

"What do you want me to do, cower in the corner pissing myself in fear?"

"You should be afraid of me."

"Not for that, Riddick. You may be some big, bad killer but what just happened was my own stupid mistake. I'm sure they will come a day when you scare the shit out of me, but today's not that day."

He stares at me for a moment, those shined eyes bearing into my soul as he soaks in my words before he looks away in order to strap a shiv to his side. Then, he walks towards the door with a shrug and a few parting words.

"Guess there's always tomorrow."

_A/N: Oh my god, I am so sorry it took me so long to update. The life of a new mother is hectic and tiring. I'll try to keep the updates coming, but there's no promises about how long it'll take between each chapter. Just know that I haven't given up on these two!_


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